


get my fucking pants off the ceiling

by jarjarbinks



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Idiots in Love, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 22:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17537642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarjarbinks/pseuds/jarjarbinks
Summary: Gerard is particularly annoying and Sergio is particularly annoyed.





	get my fucking pants off the ceiling

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place sometime after the doping allegation. They inexplicably have a break because it is convenient for the plot... just go with it :P

Sergio woke up with a poorly drawn dick on his face and a strong desire to murder Gerard Piqué. He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a long moment, silently wondering why the hell he’d allowed himself to end up in this situation. 

His silent pondering did not last long. “Piqué!” he hollered at the top of his lungs. “I am going to fucking kill you!” He turned on the tap and began scrubbing at his face furiously.

He heard Gerard before he saw him, heard that irritating laughter before he saw the infuriating grin on that highly punchable face. “Good morning, Sergio. You’re looking better than usual today,” the man said cheerfully. Sergio threw a soap dispenser at him. It struck Gerard quite solidly in the shoulder, but that just made him laugh more. 

“What the hell did you do to my face?” Sergio snapped. “Are you a fucking teenager? Do you find this funny?” He kept scrubbing at his cheek, reaching over to snatch the other soap dispenser off the counter, satisfied to see Gerard flinch a little out of the corner of his eye. 

“You seem a little worked up about something,” Gerard informed him, grinning broadly. “Here I thought you liked ink on your skin.”

“If this fucking shit doesn’t wash off my face I fucking swear to god – ” Sergio growled.

“ _Tranquilo_ , tío,” Gerard cut in, his grin softening into something a little less impish and a little more fond. He stepped into the bathroom, bending down to open one of the sink cupboards and taking out a bottle. He took the cloth Sergio had been using and poured the contents of the bottle onto it before reaching out to rub at Sergio’s face. Sergio was about to complain – about to tell Gerard that he could do it himself, that Gerard should just fuck off. But then the taller man’s other hand was on the back of his head, sliding down to gently cradle his neck, pulling him forward slightly, and Sergio found himself relaxing, almost unwillingly, his hot rage ebbing away as Gerard’s thumb lightly stroked up and down along the back of his neck. “It’s just marker, Capi,” Gerard said. The hand rubbing the cloth over Sergio’s face was gentle, almost affectionate, and Gerard was standing far too close. Sergio could feel his breath against his face.

“I’m not your capi anymore,” Sergio grumbled. His heart was beating a little too fast and he had to force himself to look Gerard in the eye. He regretted it almost immediately. Those ridiculously blue eyes were watching him with a peculiar kind of warmth that Sergio didn’t think he had ever seen in them before.

“Capi of my soul?” Gerard suggested, his mouth quirking up into a small smile. And without warning, his hand dropped from Sergio’s neck to Sergio’s bare side, his fingers running along the line of text tattooed there. 

The touch shot through Sergio like a jolt of electricity, and he couldn’t quite stop the sharp intake of breath in response, suddenly unable to tear his gaze away away from those beautiful eyes. For the briefest of moments neither man moved, and Sergio could feel the anticipation building inside of him until it almost reached a breaking point.

But at that moment, Gerard stepped back, dropping the cloth he’d been using onto the counter. “There,” he said. “You are dickless once more.”

Sergio turned to examine himself in the mirror, carefully making sure none of the ink still remained on his face. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he informed Gerard, glaring at the man’s reflection. “And you can’t draw. Never seen a dick before, Geri?” 

Gerard’s grin was blinding. “Oh, I’ve seen my fair share,” he replied without hesitation. “Up close and personal.” And then he was gone, striding out of the bathroom before Sergio had a chance to process this. “Get dressed, Sergio,” Gerard’s voice called. “I’ll put on some coffee.” 

It wasn’t until Sergio left the bathroom in search of his clothes that another problem presented itself. None of his things were anywhere to be seen. In fact, he couldn’t recall having seen them at any point since he’d managed to drunkenly struggle out of his clothes and fall into bed the previous night. He looked around the room in confusion. Most of the people at the party had been Barça players, but he was pretty sure none of them would stoop low enough as to steal from him.

It was only by chance that he happened to look up. And when he did, everything suddenly became clear. “ _Piqué_!” he shouted, murderous feelings once again rising inside of him. 

Gerard appeared in the doorway far too quickly, almost as if he had been waiting for this. “Yes, Sergio?” he asked, his voice innocent, his smile anything but.

“Would you mind explaining to me why my clothes are duct-taped to the ceiling?” Sergio asked, with far more patience than the other man deserved. 

Gerard’s smile grew larger. “Finally noticed, did you?”

“Piqué, get my fucking pants off the ceiling.”

There was that strange kind of fondness on Gerard’s face again as he nodded agreeably. “I’ll get right on it. Why don’t you have a nice, long shower while you wait?” he suggested. “You seem a little tense.”

A shower sounded, admittedly, rather nice. “You’d better not have ruined my clothes,” Sergio muttered as he headed back into the bathroom. “I spent good money on them.”

“Someone ripped you off,” Gerard called after him. Sergio shook his head and closed the door behind him, locking it firmly. 

He almost fell for it. His hand was raised, ready to turn on the stream of soothing water, when common sense kicked in. Gerard was waiting for him when he emerged from the bathroom, leaning up against the doorframe with that stupid grin still on his face. “Something the matter, Sergio?” he asked, his stupidly blue eyes wide and angelic. 

“What did you do to the shower?” Sergio asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Gerard laughed. It was a full-hearted, delighted laugh that somehow eased Sergio’s irritation. “Damnit, I was really hoping you’d go for that one,” Gerard said. His smile was bright enough to put the sun to shame. “Dye in the showerhead. Itching powder in the towel.”

Sergio shook his head at the other man. “What the hell wrong with you today?” he demanded. “I swear you’re even more of a pain in the ass than usual. Is this some kind of midlife crisis?”

Gerard shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Seriously, Geri. Are you _trying_ to piss me off? Is that why you invited me to that fucking party? You’re trying to get under my skin? Like I don’t have enough to deal with without you –”

“Haven’t been thinking about it though, have you?” Gerard cut in, his face suddenly uncharacteristically serious.

Sergio stared at him. “What?”

“You haven’t been thinking about La Liga, you haven’t been thinking about that damn doping thing. Not since you set foot in my house. I made sure of it.”

A silence stretched out between them as Sergio tried to process Gerard’s words. “Are you telling me,” he said finally, “that this whole thing – the invitation and these stupid pranks and everything – is because you wanted to make me _feel better_?”

Gerard fiddled absently with the drawstrings of his hoodie, not quite meeting Sergio’s eyes. “The whole party, actually,” he admitted. “I just wanted to give you something else to thing about.”

“And making me want to kill you was the best thing you could come up with?”

“The easiest thing.” Gerard looked up, grinning suddenly, his solemnity vanishing as quickly as it had come. “And the look on your face was a nice bonus.”

“There are better ways to cheer someone up than by pissing them off, Geri.” 

“But I’m so good at pissing people off.” He was still grinning, and Sergio really wanted to wipe that expression off his face, though he was no longer sure he wanted to do it with his fist.

He shook his head wonderingly. “Only you would think of dragging someone across the country and drawing a dick on their face because they were having a bad week.”

“I didn’t drag you, Sergio,” Gerard said, his voice strangely soft. “You didn’t have to come. You chose to.”

Now it was Sergio’s turn to avoid eye contact, turning around with another shake of his head and starting back into the bathroom. “No idea why,” he muttered. 

A hand caught his wrist, and Sergio was very aware of Gerard’s body suddenly very close behind him. “Because you miss me,” the Barça player said in that same soft voice. “You miss me on international break, and you wanted to see me.”

“I don’t miss you.” Sergio’s voice came out just a little too breathlessly, and far too unconvincingly. Gerard’s other hand came up to rest gently on Sergio’s hip, drawing him backward until their bodies were touching, and Sergio couldn’t stop his breath from hitching slightly.

“I miss you too,” Gerard said, his voice low, his breath ghosting over the shell of Sergio’s ear and sending a shiver through the shorter man’s body.

“If this is how you show people you care, it’s no wonder you’re single,” Sergio informed him, trying to ignore the quickness of his heartbeat and the searing heat of Gerard’s touch. 

Gerard laughed softly, leaning closer, his lips brushing against Sergio’s ear. “I have other ways of showing it,” he said, and Sergio desperately bit back the moan that threatened to escape him. To his horror, he could feel his dick starting to react to Gerard’s touch. 

“Are these other ways any less annoying?” he managed to get out.

“Maybe. They might still involve a dick on your face though.” Sergio was sure he would have come up with a coherent and biting retort, but at that moment, Gerard’s hand released his wrist and ran its way up Sergio’s arm, the fingers fluttering lightly over his skin, and any coherent thoughts that remained in Sergio’s head at that point were lost. 

Gerard leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the tattoo behind Sergio’s ear, and Sergio felt his head falling to the side to welcome the touch, his body neglecting to ask his brain for permission. The only thing in his mind now was the feeling of the soft mouth travelling down his neck, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin, and Sergio was unable to stop the moan this time. He shifted backward, further into the warmth of the body behind him. Time seemed to stop as Gerard’s hand slid from his hip and across his lower stomach, his fingertips dancing teasingly along the waistband of Sergio’s underwear. Sergio was already half-hard from the neck kisses alone, and with this new contact he felt like all the blood in his body was suddenly rushing directly to his cock. He sagged back against Gerard, suddenly light-headed and embarrassingly weak in the knees.

Gerard’s hand closed around his wrist again, and he gave Sergio a gentle tug. Sergio allowed himself to be pulled back across the bedroom, barely even processing what was happening. And then Gerard was in front of him, pushing gently down on his shoulders, and Sergio let his legs finally buckle under him, dropping down onto the edge of the bed. 

He watched in a daze as Gerard fell to his knees in front of him, pushing Sergio’s legs apart so he could settle himself between them. His brow was furrowed slightly in concentration, and there was a hunger in his bright blue eyes that made Sergio’s stomach lurch. 

And in that moment, with Gerard Piqué kneeling between his legs and eyeing his painfully hard cock, Sergio’s eyes were inexplicably drawn to Gerard’s hair. It obviously hadn’t been brushed today, and was sticking out off his head at ridiculous angles. Sergio’s heart ached suddenly. He’d seen the man’s hair like this many times before when they’d played together, seen it get progressively wilder as a game went on, until it was nothing but a fluffy mess by the time the final whistle blew. He reached out impulsively, running his fingers through it like he’d wanted to so many times before. “I missed you, Geri,” he breathed, not even realizing he was saying it until it was already out of his mouth, and there was no taking it back.

Gerard looked up, and Sergio felt another lurch in his stomach as their eyes met. “I know you did,” Gerard said, a grin lighting his face. “But it’s nice to hear you say it.”

Sergio swallowed thickly, suddenly at a loss for words. He tangled his fingers in Gerard’s hair and tugged him forward. “Less talking,” he commanded. Gerard obliged with a chuckle, his hands coming up to rest on Sergio’s thighs as he leaned forward. 

And suddenly his hot mouth was on Sergio, his tongue flattening itself against the damp spot on Sergio’s underwear, and Sergio was moaning again, his head falling backward as hot pleasure surged through his body. A desperate need pooled in his stomach as Gerard mouthed at him, and he reached down to push at his underwear frantically. “Get these off,” he groaned. “God, Geri, I need your mouth.”

For a moment, Sergio expected some kind of teasing from the other man, but then Gerard’s hands were grabbing his underwear, tugging at them with the same urgency that Sergio was feeling. He lifted himself slightly to allow them to be yanked off of him, and Gerard let out a sound almost like a growl as Sergio’s dick finally sprung free. Glancing down, Sergio saw the man staring at him ravenously, eyes dark with lust. 

Gerard’s tongue darted out to run across his tantalizingly pink lips, and it was suddenly too much to handle. Sergio seized the man’s hair again and gave it a firm tug, urging him to bring that perfect, fuckable mouth to the part of him that needed it so desperately. Once again, Gerard complied without hesitation. Firmly wrapping a hand around Sergio’s cock, he leaned forward to lap at the pre-cum leaking from the tip, and Sergio’s hips bucked involuntarily, a breathless groan escaping him as the sudden jolt of pleasure shot through him.

Gerard’s tongue kept working, circling the tip of Sergio’s dick before lapping its way down his length, and Sergio felt dangerously close to climax already. “More,” he gasped out. “Geri, more. Please. I need –” He broke off with a desperate moan. Somehow Gerard understood his broken pleas, and Sergio suddenly felt himself engulfed in a tight, heavenly heat as Gerard took him down nearly all the way with a practiced ease. He forced his eyes open so he could look down at Gerard’s pink lips stretched out so beautifully around his cock. 

“Geri, fuck,” he growled. “Your mouth was made for this.” His head spun as Gerard started to move, fucking his mouth slowly on Sergio’s length. Sergio didn’t even try to hold back the sounds that were spilling from him now as he watched Gerard Piqué sucking him off like it was the only thing he wanted to do in life.

Then Gerard raised his eyes to meet Sergio’s, at the same time surging forward to swallow him all the way to the base, and Sergio couldn’t fight it anymore. He threw his head back as he came in hot bursts down Gerard’s throat, white hot pleasure flooding all of his senses, the whole world fading away around him save for the tight paradise of Gerard’s mouth.

Sergio’s mind finally returned to his body when Gerard pulled off of him with an obscene slurping sound that Sergio swore almost made him hard again. Gerard licked his lips, grinning up at Sergio, and Sergio felt like his heart was trying to expand out of his chest. “You’re not too bad at that,” he managed to rasp out, trying to get back some kind of feeling of control.

Gerard was still smiling that stupid, beautiful smile. He shrugged modestly. “Like you said, my mouth was made for it,” he said. “Not unlike your own,” he added, raising himself up on his knees so he could press a soft, lingering kiss to Sergio’s mouth.

“I guess we make a good pair then,” Sergio murmured.

“I guess we do.” Gerard’s hand came up to rest gently on the back the Sergio’s head, pulling him down to press their foreheads together.

Sergio cleared his throat awkwardly. “Do you need… something?” he asked, gesturing vaguely downward.

Gerard shook his head, drawing back to give Sergio a smile so full of warmth that Sergio’s chest ached. “Today is about you,” he said, and Sergio pulled him forward into a kiss, desperate with some kind of need he didn’t quite know how to satisfy.

A sound from the doorway made the two men start apart from each other. Jordi stood just outside the room, rubbing his eyes blearily as he took in the scene in front of him. “I’m too hungover for this shit,” he muttered after a moment, and he turned and shuffled away down the hall.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” Gerard called after him, looking remarkably unruffled by the intrusion. 

“Joder,” Sergio swore, yanking his underwear up. “Geri, how many people stayed over? What if someone else saw us? _Joder_.”

“Don’t worry, I threw everyone else out last night,” Gerard said. “I wanted you to myself.” He reached up to brush a soothing thumb down Sergio’s cheek. Sergio swatted it away, eyes darting back to the open door. 

“And “to yourself” includes Jordi Alba? Geri, if you’re planning some kind of threesome I swear –”

“With _Jordi_?” Gerard laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Sergio’s heart skip a beat, despite his building panic. “If we’re going to be having a threesome, Jordi would not be my first choice. Maybe –”

“I really don’t need to know,” Sergio interrupted. He felt a burning irritation rise in his chest at the idea of Gerard wanting someone else to join them. “So why _is_ Jordi still here?” he demanded, steering the conversation back to something that made him feel slightly less like punching someone.

“I needed someone to help me tape your stuff to the ceiling.”

Sergio raised his eyebrows. “You wanted help reaching the ceiling and you picked… Jordi?”

“He’s very nimble.”

“Well, I’m glad he stayed over then. He can help you get it down again.”

Gerard groaned and ran his hands over Sergio’s chest. “What do you need your clothes for? I’m enjoying you without them.”

Sergio knocked his hands away again, despite the little shiver that went through him at the touch. “You can enjoy me more when my very expensive clothes have been rescued.” He gently pushed Gerard away from him so he could get to his feet. “But fix the bathroom first. I want a shower.”

Gerard let out a sigh as he rose to his feet as well. “Fine,” he agreed. And then Sergio was suddenly wrapped in Gerard’s arms, pulled close into the other man’s body, overwhelmed by the feel and the smell and the warmth and _Geri_. Almost automatically, Sergio returned the embrace, pulling himself closer as one of Gerard’s hands came to rest gently on the back of his head.

After a moment, Gerard drew back and leaned down to kiss Sergio lightly on the cheek. “I’m sorry about the pranks,” he said. “Mostly. You’re fucking hot when you’re throwing soap dispensers.” He pressed another light kiss to Sergio’s lips before pulling himself away entirely and heading into the bathroom.

~

By the time Sergio finished his shower, his clothes were neatly folded at the head of the bed, and Gerard was sprawled out (much less neatly) beside them. He raised his ruffled head as Sergio came into the room, eyeing the towel around Sergio’s waist very disapprovingly. “I tape your clothes to the ceiling and you still find a way to hide that body from me,” he said, and he let his head drop back onto the mattress with a dramatic sigh.

Sergio walked over to the bed and looked down at Gerard, eyeing the object in his hands suspiciously. “Geri, is that my phone?” he asked. 

“Your password isn’t my name. I’m hurt.” Gerard held the phone out to Sergio with a grin. “You only have one more try at the password before your phone is wiped. I hope you get it right.”

Sergio plucked his phone out of Gerard’s hand and tossed it onto the bed. “So close, Geri. My password has been “El Piquetón” for years.” He couldn’t help but think that Gerard’s laugh was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, and he felt that swelling in his heart again as he looked down into those dancing blue eyes. 

The feeling died abruptly as Gerard lunged for his phone again. Sergio’s defensive reflexes kicked in, and he threw himself forward to tackle the other man to the bed before the rat bastard could wipe his phone. 

Gerard looked faintly surprised for a moment as Sergio landed heavily on top of him, but the expression quickly shifted into that soft, fond smile that did things to Sergio’s heart. “If I’d known it was so easy to get you on top of me, I would have tried to hack your phone years ago,” he said. There was an edge of breathlessness to his voice that had nothing to do with being tackled, and Sergio was struck suddenly with a need to hear more of that, to break through that infuriating air of flippancy.

He shifted his body so that he was laying only half on top of the other man, making sure one leg was left resting between Gerard’s. Reaching up, he stroked his fingers down Gerard’s cheek, his thumb lightly brushing over that perfect mouth, feeling a slight lurch deep in his belly when Gerard’s lips reflexively parted at the contact. Sergio moved his hand down further, skimming his finger’s over Gerard’s neck, exploring the bit of collarbone exposed by the neck of his hoodie, gently tracing the hollow of his throat, drinking in the feel of the Gerard’s flesh under his hand.

When Sergio raised his eyes from the explorations of his hand, he found Gerard gazing up at him with an almost wondering look, as though he had discovered the eighth wonder of the world. The look was there for only a second before Gerard smirked at him. “Still thinking about El Piquetón?” he asked.

Sergio’s hand abandoned Gerard’s neck and reached up to tangle itself in the man’s unruly hair. Giving it an abrupt yank, he forced Gerard’s head to one side to expose a broader expanse of neck, satisfied by the faint gasp of surprise or pain or both that the action elicited. Before Gerard had a chance to complain, Sergio’s mouth was on his neck, nipping and sucking and kissing its way over his soft skin. Sergio felt Gerard’s breathing stutter slightly, and when his mouth slid up to suck hotly on Gerard’s earlobe, he heard a faint moan escape the Catalan’s mouth.

Sergio’s hand released it’s grip on Gerard’s hair and darted down to slide under the man’s shirt, his own breathing growing hotter and heavier as he felt the body under him reacting to his touch. Gerard was panting now, little groans spilling from his mouth, and Sergio finally felt him starting to harden. He pressed his thigh down more firmly between Gerard’s legs, and Gerard’s hips bucked in response. Sergio had been expecting this, and maybe another moan, but he wasn’t ready for the breathless “Sergio” that fell from Gerard’s mouth instead, the single word sending Sergio’s blood rushing downward. 

Teasing and gentle touches were immediately forgotten, Sergio’s hand instead impatiently shoving Gerard’s sweatpants down and wrapping around his stiffening length, stroking him encouragingly. And finally, Sergio found what he was searching for, as Gerard’s last bit of control was shattered and he came apart under Sergio’s touch. His whole body arched up into the sudden contact, and he cried out Sergio’s name again, followed by a volley of broken Catalan. His hands came up to clutch at Sergio, clinging to him as though his life depended on it. 

Sergio was fully hard by now and aching for attention. He released Gerard’s dick and moved to push the damn interfering towel out of the way, his movements growing more and more frantic as the towel resisted and Gerard went silent under him, no longer making those beautiful, wrecked sounds that Sergio so desperately wanted to hear. 

Finally, he freed himself from the towel, immediately thrusting himself forward to rub his cock against Gerard’s, a low, guttural groan wrenching from his body at the sudden friction. “Fuck. _Sergio_ ,” Gerard gasped out. His fingers were digging painfully into Sergio’s back, his eyes closed and his entire body tensed and quivering. Sergio brought a hand up and clumsily wrapped it around both of their lengths the best he could, continuing to rock himself against Gerard, and it was all he could do to keep his own eyes open against the sensations shooting through his body, refusing to look away from the man under him for even a moment.

Gerard’s whole body was flushed and shaking, his full lips parted and letting out moans and gasps and incoherent words in at least three different languages, and the sight and the sound and the smell and the feel of him were overwhelming. It was all Sergio could do to hold back his orgasm, only controlling himself with sheer stubbornness and the determination that Gerard wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of making him climax twice before coming even once himself. 

Suddenly, Gerard’s body stiffened and began to tremble violently, his eyes flying open to fix wildly on Sergio’s face. “Sergio,” he gasped. “Sergio.” The name was like a prayer on his lips. His hips thrust up violently as he came, spilling hotly over his own body, and it was this sight and his final broken, desperate cry of Sergio’s name that brought Sergio over the edge right after him.

Gerard’s gaze hadn’t left Sergio, their eyes remaining locked as they both slowly came down from their pleasure-high. The wondering look was back on Gerard’s face, and this time he wore it openly, not trying to hide it away from Sergio’s sight. Sergio couldn’t help but feel like he had won some kind of battle, stormed some kind of fortress and forced his way inside, laying bare a part of Gerard that Gerard hadn’t wanted him to see. He grinned down at the man lying under him, open and vulnerable at last. “What are you staring at?” he asked, leaning down to plant a light kiss on the tip of Gerard’s nose.

“A god.”

Sergio snorted. “You flatter me, but there’s only one God, and I sincerely hope he’s not here.”

Gerard laughed, still a little breathless. “God is everywhere, Sergio. He’s with us always. Quite the voyeur, if you ask me.”

Sergio gave him a firm slap on the arm. “No one asked you. Cállate.” To his surprise, Gerard actually did shut up, his only response being a warm hand coming to gently cup Sergio’s face. Sergio blinked down at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you this quiet in all the time I’ve known you. Did I break you?”

He was almost relieved by the slight smirk this earned him. “Maybe next time, mi amor,” Gerard said softly, and Sergio’s heart skipped several beats.

“Next time?” he asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. He managed to keep his voice much more controlled than he’d expected. “Bit of an assumption.”

This time, Gerard’s grin returned to his face in full-force. “Once you’ve met El Piquetón, there’s no going back.” Sergio could see himself being shut out again as Gerard’s eyes finally left his face, turning down to the sticky mess between them. “We should get this cleaned up.” 

Sergio stopped Gerard’s attempt to pull away with a gentle hand pressed to his chest. The other man looked up at him quizzically, opening his mouth to say something that would probably make Sergio regret all of his recent life choices. “Next time, I’d like to get to know El Piquetón a little better,” Sergio said, cutting him off before Gerard could make him change his mind about saying it at all.

Gerard was silent, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. Then he smiled again, and this time it was like the sun had risen in the sky of his eyes, casting its light and warmth across his entire face. “I think that can be arranged,” he said. 

Sergio leaned down to kiss him, his heart swelling in his chest again as Gerard returned the kiss with a fierceness that verged on desperation. When they broke apart they were both breathing heavily. “I don’t want to see you only when we’re on opposite ends of the pitch,” Sergio murmured against Gerard’s lips. “It’s not enough.”

Gerard’s arms slid around Sergio’s body, pulling him closer and tightening possessively. “For once we agree on something,” he said. Sergio returned the embrace just as tightly, tucking his face into the crook of Gerard’s neck. He lay like that for a moment, taking in every sensation, the feel of their skin pressed together, the smell of their sweat mingling on their bodies, the sound of Gerard breathing and the beating of his pulse in his neck. 

Finally, he withdrew, shooting a look downward. “I also agree that we should get ourselves cleaned up,” he said. “I’m going to need another shower.”

Gerard smiled up at him. “I can’t say I’m sorry about that.”

“Me neither,” Sergio admitted. With a groan, he pulled himself out of Gerard’s embrace, though the other man seemed as reluctant to relinquish his hold on him as Sergio was to remove himself from it. Only by sheer force of will did he manage to drag himself off the bed and onto his feet. He reached down and gave Gerard a light shove. “Come on, we’ll be more comfortable when we’re cleaned up.”

Gerard stretched languidly and pushed himself to his feet, reaching out to give Sergio’s hand a tug, nodding his head towards the bathroom. “Join me?” he asked, and the hopefulness in his eyes almost made Sergio feel guilty. Almost.

He smiled, giving Gerard’s hand a squeeze. “You get started,” he said. “I’ll be in in a second. I’m going to do something about the mess we made here.” He gestured to the bed.

Gerard smiled, his entire face lighting up, and he headed into the bathroom. Sergio sat on the end of the bed to wait. He heard the sound of the shower coming on, and then a loud “ _Hijo de puta_!” echoed off the tiles. Sergio grinned broadly, any trace of guilt that had remained replaced instantly by a deep sense of satisfaction as Gerard burst out of the bathroom, neon purple from head to toe. 

“You seem a little worked up about something,” Sergio said. 

A broad grin broke out across Gerard’s very purple face, and then he was laughing like he had just heard the funniest joke in the world, and Sergio laughed with him, a lightness that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like a very, very long time spreading through his chest. The next minute, Gerard pounced, seizing Sergio and rubbing purple on every part of him that he could get his hands on, while Sergio weakly tried to fend him off through a fit of uncontrollable laughter. 

They both froze as there came a sudden pounding on the door. “You’re adorable,” Jordi’s voice called, “but could you keep it down in there? Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Sergio and Gerard remained still until they heard the sound of footsteps retreating down the hall. Then Sergio turned his attention back to the purple man who currently had him pinned to the bed. “Geri,” he said, very seriously. “I love Jordi to death, but can you please leave him at home next time?”

He saw Gerard trying desperately to hold his laughter in, but such control had never been one of the man’s strengths, and he eventually just pressed his face into Sergio’s chest, trying to stifle the sound against him. Sergio felt his own laughter bubble up again, and he quickly clamped a hand over his mouth to try and keep himself quiet. 

When they had both calmed down, Gerard grinned at him. “Don’t you think his presence adds something?”

“Discomfort? Vague irritation?”

“Doesn’t it have an edge of voyeuristic excitement to it though?”

“We have God for that. This is like having a puppy sitting in the room and staring at you while you fuck.”

Gerard chuckled and leaned in to give Sergio a surprisingly tender kiss. “Fine,” he conceded. “Next time, I’ll leave the puppy at home.” He pulled himself off of Sergio and tugged at him to follow. “Come on, let’s have that shower,” he said. “El Piquetón would love a proper introduction.”

Sergio raised his eyebrows at Gerard’s lower body. “Maybe when he’s a little less purple.” But he followed Gerard into the bathroom, a little more eagerly than he would care to admit.

~

It was only when Gerard had him pressed against the wall of the shower, overloading his senses with more pleasure than he had ever thought possible, that Sergio was finally able to get out the words he’d been wanting to say. “Thank you.”

“Hm?” Gerard said absently, not looking up from where his fingers were busily mapping every line of ink etched into Sergio’s body.

Sergio took a shaky breath and forced himself to continue. “For today. You’re right. It took my mind off… everything. _You_ took my mind off everything. So… thank you.”

Now Gerard did look up, his eyes burning with something that Sergio couldn’t quite find a name for. “Any time you need me, Sergio,” he said, the pure sincerity in his voice almost bringing Sergio to climax right then and there.

And with that, Sergio felt the last remaining bit of tension ease from his body. Whatever the name was for that look in Gerard’s eye, Sergio felt it too. And whatever else the world might throw at them, that nameless thing was something that no one could ever take away.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure this is completely finished, since I have more ideas about where the story could go, but we'll call it done for now.


End file.
